


Broken Dreams

by crna_macka



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, F/F, High School
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-22
Updated: 2016-08-10
Packaged: 2018-05-05 12:07:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5374661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crna_macka/pseuds/crna_macka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Strip away the government agencies, aliens, and superpowered villains and heroes - and the world still has Alex and Kara. That's all that's ever mattered to either of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Elsewhere

**Author's Note:**

> Unsurprisingly, this fic was inspired by a dream [Girlblunder/Beaglesinbowties](http://archiveofourown.org/users/girlblunder) had a while ago when she was in the midst of other projects. And since I was not, I agreed to write it, with a lot of input from her. So while the prose is mine, this was all but cowritten by her. ~~We hope it pains you as much as it pains us.~~

When Kara's parents die, she takes two weeks off from school and moves in with the Danvers on the other side of town. She wants it to rain for a month, mudslides and flooding to match how she feels, but this is southern California: the skies are clear, the air is dry, and everyone else's lives go on as normal. Everyone's except hers, and the Danvers family's. There is a merciful stillness in the house; Jeremiah and Eliza Danvers were close to her parents - close enough that no issue was taken with their offer to take Kara in, and close enough that they are still mourning, too. Their daughter Alex, a year older but always the closest Kara has ever had to a sister, has no problem keeping the curtains drawn and the lights dim.

It's like their sleepovers, a hundred times before, except Kara won't be waking up around noon and going home after lunch. She barely even sleeps, or she does sleep and jolts awake in terror, gasping and grasping for the warm body next to her, checking for movement when she doesn't trust the warmth. Alex is endlessly patient, even when it means she's losing sleep too.

"I'm here," she mumbles, sometimes not even needing a touch to be roused by Kara's restlessness. "Right here, Kara," or "S'okay," slurred by slumber. She learns to curl toward Kara instead of drifting away in the night, and when Kara grabs her hand, she squeezes back.

Alex only takes two days off of school, and when she goes back, she picks up notes for Kara. She coolly avoids answering questions, but that doesn't mean her anger doesn't start to rise when she hears rumors about how the Zorels died. Those rumors are silenced by the time Kara comes back.

Meanwhile, the Danvers household subtly transforms, shifting to accommodate the new addition. There is no question between the girls that they will share a room. Alex doesn't complain even once as her space shrinks with the addition of another bed, another dresser, another desk. What she does do is help Kara unpack and suggest that they be allowed to move their desks into the spare room.

"It's healthier," she says, having just written a persuasive paper on adolescent and young adult sleep cycles last semester. "You're more focused on work and more able to rest when you physically separate the space for the respective activities. Pretty important with SAT scores and GPAs on the line."

The girls are given the spare room without argument, and between the two of them, rearrange the bedroom and set up a study that leaves Alex satisfied and Kara smiling when they stand in the doorway and survey their new domain. "You like it?" Alex asks, wanting confirmation that this will work for both of them.

"Yeah," Kara agrees, a little sadly, a little wistfully, but sure that she does - sure that she likes knowing that the Danvers have welcomed her unequivocally, that this friendship isn't going to change just because they're sisters now.

Alex unfolds her arms from over her chest and drapes one across Kara's shoulders. "It's all ours," she says. "Should we give it a name?"

Kara leans into Alex's side. "Just 'ours' is fine," she says, a weak attempt at a joke. She gets a lopsided smile for effort and a comforting, conspiratorial squeeze.

"Smartass," Alex jibes fondly. "I like it."

* * *

Kara's first day back at school has both girls tense. Without thinking, Alex dresses a little darker, a little sharper than usual. Kara is demure in soft pastels and gray. When Mrs. Danvers drops them off at the curb, she quietly reminds Alex to look out for Kara. Alex already knows, though; she already does.

They walk side-by-side through the halls, and Alex refuses to go to her classroom even though they come across it first. "I just want to walk you to class," she says, and Kara, secretly grateful, doesn't argue. Fewer people approach with "I'm sorry"s with the bristling vibe Alex gives off, and the less Kara has to hear the condolences, the more likely she is to make it through the day.

It becomes their new routine. Alex eventually stops walking with Kara to every class - she can only be late to her own so many times without reprimand - but beyond that, they are inseparable at school. Most people had considered Alex somewhat standoffish even before, when she simply didn't have time for frivolity while she was focused on her grades and activities, but that shield is even more pronounced now that she has reason to use it, now that Kara can use it.

And it's a subtle enough shift that no one picks up on it at first. No one, not even Alex and Kara, knows when Alex could have gone back to being just the best friend and instead chose to keep being the bodyguard.

It _is_ clear when their peers start to acknowledge it. When Alex is a junior and Kara is a sophomore and Alex literally stands up to their AP Chemistry teacher for one too many derisive responses to Kara's clarifying questions.

Alex sits stoically and furiously in the vice principal's office as the woman tries to explain that she knows, she _knows_ Alex is a good student and meant well, but the administration still can't just let her off with a warning. Alex knows. Alex takes it - the detention, the removal from the man's class. They arrange for her to finish the course as an independent study, and she fumes. Not about her grade, but that she can't be there to keep the teacher in line.

The disappointment rains down at home, and Alex lifts her chin in defiance. "It's not going to hurt my grades," she defends herself, straight-backed against her parents' lecturing. "It's still weighted credit. I still get to take the test. I can teach myself perfectly fine, and Kara and I always study together anyway."

"This isn't just about your grades," Eliza flares. "You think colleges won't notice this on your record? You think people won't _remember_ this outburst and disrespect?"

"Disrespect? He's a jerk that abuses his authority and doesn't respect his students," Alex snaps. "He picks on Kara because she isn't afraid to ask questions, he's been doing that for _months_ , and I'm _sick_ of it."

And just like that Eliza goes just as stiff as her daughter, pinching the bridge of her nose as she dials back her own anger into stony authority. "I cannot believe you are trying to blame your lack of control on Kara."

"What?" Indignation shoots Alex's voice up a notch. "I'm - _what?_ "

"I don't know what's gotten into you," Eliza continues. "We raised you to be smarter than this, but the past few months..." She shakes her head and levels Alex with a look and barely suppressed sigh. "Go to your room."

" _Go to my room?_ "

"Go to your room, Alexandra. I need to talk to your father. You need to calm down. I'll let you know what we decide."

"What you decide about what?" Alex's chest tightens with sudden pressure. The twist in their argument leaves her disoriented, almost dizzy with its sharp turn.

"How to deal with you," Eliza says. Her voice is as firm as the set of her mouth when she dismisses Alex: "Now go."

The shock doesn't wear off when she crosses the threshold and Kara is there to hug her. "Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry - I mean, you stood up for me, and you were amazing, and now you're in trouble and it's my fault..."

Alex returns the hug belatedly as her friend rambles on. She replays the argument in her head. She revisits every detail. She still doesn't see what "the past few months" could mean. She'd never done anything prior to this one rebellious act.

And it wasn't that rebellious. It was the right thing to do. It was sticking up for someone else, against a bully.

She sinks down on the edge of her bed without saying a word, and Kara finally falls silent. Distantly, through the walls of the house, they can hear the low rumblings of intense conversation. Alex blinks and Kara sits next to her, reaching for her hand.

"Alex?" Kara says tentatively. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Alex says. She can't make out the words being said, but she can feel the way Kara squeezes her hand.

"You sure?"

Alex replays the admonishment over again. "What's gotten into me?" she repeats, aloud, bewildered.

* * *

The spare room, the study room, lasts only a year before it becomes Kara's room. She and Alex and Mr. Danvers spend a whole Saturday moving her bed and dresser in and Alex's desk out. When it comes to untangling their shared book collections, Alex bites her tongue and backs away. "Just keep it all together," she says dismissively, and it's everything Kara can do to swallow the lump in her throat and be appropriately grateful for all of Jeremiah's help.

When he leaves her to settle in, into this strange space that she has been so comfortable in before, she crosses the hallway. The bedroom door - Alex's bedroom door, she reminds herself - is closed. And it's not her bedroom anymore, so Kara hesitates, knocks, and hesitates before letting herself in. Alex is at the window and doesn't look up at the sound of the door closing again. Kara hesitates now that she's in this space; she doesn't know what to say. "I'm sorry," is all she has.

She goes to Alex, wrapping her in a hug as normal and familiar as possible with the air of tension filling the whole house. Kara is almost taller these days and takes advantage of that, pulling Alex back against her and tucking her chin against the older girl's shoulder. "I kind of feel like I messed things up," Kara admits quietly. "I didn't mean to."

Alex doesn't stiffen or pull away, but she doesn't lean in, either. "You didn't mess anything up."

"You aren't a bad influence," Kara insists, still trying to undo the reasoning behind Alex's punishment and their separation. "You're not. I don't know where your parents got that idea. You're, like, my hero."

Alex scoffs and her shoulders twitch. Kara holds on tighter for a moment, then lets her arms drop. She doesn't want to trap her friend but she doesn't want to let Alex stand alone. So she compromises, loosely linking their arms.

"Really? 'cause I'm pretty sure this is the part where I start smoking pot and hooking up with guys in Blink 182 shirts," Alex says, bitterness knotting in the muscles of her jaw.

Kara smiles anyway and bumps against her side. "Nah, you'll skip straight to growing and selling like the brilliant biologist you've always wanted to be."

Alex cants her head so Kara can see the small smirk. "Botany, Kara? I never wanted to be a botanist."

"But you have always been brilliant," Kara says airily, and Alex actually lets out a laugh. Ten points for Kara, breaking down the wall that had been in place all day. She uses that to segue gently back to reality. "So obviously we have to keep studying and doing homework together. You can come get books anytime you like. You can come over anytime you like."

Alex's amusement fades, but Kara doesn't waver.

"It feels like I took something away from you. I know you don't think that and I shouldn't think that, but the only way I'm going to feel okay about it is if we don't treat it like we lost something. Like, I love Eliza and Jeremiah and I really appreciate everything that they've done for me, but this is the dumbest punishment ever. Like, if it isn't broken, don't fix it... what?"

Alex is staring at her. Not like she's grown a third head or something, but more like Alex is on the verge of saying something, like she's worked her way through a particularly complex problem, like she's seen something new and she wants to understand it. Like she's measured Kara for some new quantification.

Kara doesn't realize she's holding her breath until Alex shakes her head, and the moment passes.

"You're right," Alex says. "It just takes some getting used to."

Kara's exhale is an audible sigh of relief. "Oh thank goodness."

"You can come over here, too," Alex adds. "Just... don't knock. That was weird."

"Yeah, that was," Kara agrees, giddy that the air is finally clear. She squeezes Alex's arm and pulls her along toward the other room. "You would never shut the door on me."

* * *

They do their best not to let the new arrangement change how they act at home. Instead of a dedicated space for homework, they pick one room or the other. They filter across the hallway when getting ready for school or dressed to go out. They listen to music in Alex's room and watch movies in Kara's, and only when it's time to sleep do they go to their separate spaces.

At school, Alex throws herself into her independent study, determined to prove that this isn't a punishment either. Kara doesn't change her behavior in class, although she stops coming to the after-school review sessions offered before tests. That, she does with Alex.

Things between them stay the same, but the rest of the world seems to tilt. Especially at home. Eliza is unimpressed with Alex's grades and unrepentant determination to make the best of the situation she created. Jeremiah is weary of refereeing his wife and daughter's terse disagreements and the expectation that he take sides.

And then Alex starts trimming out extracurriculars from her schedule. Anything nonessential.

"I might have to drop chorus," she admits to Kara when they're in her room one evening, a movie onscreen but Alex's attention elsewhere. Kara startles at Alex's unexpected interruption, but she's even more surprised by the message and uncertainty in Alex's tone.

It's not even that either of them cares that much about the music program, but it's an indulgence they share and neither has ever - to Kara's knowledge, anyway - considered quitting. "What? Why?"

Alex shifts in discomfort, not able to keep her eyes on Kara's face. "Everything's just... busy. I need to focus. I need..."

The way she stumbles over her reasons worries Kara. Almost as much as the way dark eyes avoid hers. "Are you lying to me, Alex Danvers?"

"No," Alex says, rubbing a hand over her face then leaving it there, obscuring her expression.

Kara rolls onto her side, pointedly giving Alex her full attention. "Are you lying to yourself?"

"No?" Alex cracks a small, aching laugh. Kara tugs at her wrist, trying to pull her hand away, and Alex fights for a few moments before shooting Kara a pained look that makes them both freeze.

The staccato dialog of the film fills the silence again, but all Kara notices is Alex's pulse under her easing grip.

"Alex," she says, almost pleading. "You're my best friend. You're my _sister_. I'm not judging you. What's going on?"

"I can't breathe," Alex say, as quietly as she can without her voice turning into a whisper.

Kara automatically lets go, sitting up to give the other girl space. Alex's cheeks flush at the response.

"Sometimes," she clarifies. She pushes herself upright against the pillows and the headboard. "I feel like I can't breathe."

"What can I do?"

"Nothing." Alex looks down at her splayed hands, empty in her own lap. "I don't know."

Kara doesn't know, either. Not yet, but she'll do everything possible to find a way to help. For now she tangles their fingers, knuckle to knuckle. "You can talk to me, at least," she reminds Alex. "I won't be mad if you really do have to drop chorus. I'll drop it too. We can take a study hall, no pressure, and I'll keep you company, and..."

Alex sniffs quietly, then clears her throat and shakes her head. "It's okay. I mean, I haven't talked to the guidance office yet. I don't know if they'll even let me, this late in the year." Her fingers curl tighter and she doesn't pull her hands away.

Kara feels a pang in her chest, a surge of empathy for her best friend. There's no reason Alex should have to carry any burden by herself, and clearly she's been trying. Kara has noticed, for sure, but for Alex to finally say something, it must be worse than Kara guessed.

"We'll figure something out," Kara promises, gently bumping their foreheads together when Alex still doesn't look at her. Alex sighs minutely but doesn't give in. Just as stubborn, Kara doesn't let go.

* * *

After the school year ends, Alex works part time as a tutor, to "stay sharp," she says, ignoring the coincidence of so many of her sessions being scheduled in the evenings or at night. Kara points this out once but doesn't needle; Alex seems less stressed now and her parents, less critical. In the mornings, when it's just the two of them, Alex looks more relaxed than she has in months. The angle of the sun softens her features, and something about breakfast food and pajamas makes her seem almost carefree. Kara knows that it isn't that simple, but seeing Alex like this, day after day, is encouraging. It leaves her hopeful and smiling, and when Alex catches that look on her face, she raises an eyebrow.

"Sleep well, pretty princess?"

Kara ducks her head and laughs, smoothing a hand over her hair reflexively. "Yeah, why?"

"That..." Alex gestures vaguely and makes a face, grinning and fluttering her lashes. "Sweet dreams?"

"What? No. I mean, I guess. Jeeze, just let a girl be happy, Alex."

Alex easily blocks the pillow Kara threatens her with and holds a finger up while she moves her plate to the coffee table. "If you want to be happy, you do _not_ get syrup on Mom's precious upholstery."

"Uh huh," Kara says, barely listening and barely waiting for Alex to straighten before launching herself at the other girl.

They tussle like they used to, tangled limbs and quiet shrieks, freezing when Kara's foot knocks the coffee table and giggling when they confirm no harm, no foul. They don't stop until they're breathless and disheveled, and Alex finally squirms out from under Kara, who rolls over to look up at her.

"You seem happy, too," Kara points out.

Alex shakes her hair from its elastic band and tilts her head back to gather up a neater ponytail. "Yeah, well, why shouldn't I be?"

"It's just nice to see."

Alex's answering smile is the kind that always leaves a small knot in Kara's stomach, a muted reminder that Alex didn't smile enough during the school year, didn't let loose unless she was exploding. It's a daily reminder how much Kara _missed_ that look. And now - she thinks about it a lot when Alex is gone for her evening sessions. There isn't any tension between Kara and the elder Danvers, but she can't help being aware of the distance growing between Alex and her parents. Even when things are good, Alex is in the back of her mind. Kara wishes - just wishes there was a way to completely fix this, so Alex wouldn't stiffen up when the garage doors open in the late afternoon and wouldn't want to be gone every evening and any weekend she can get away. They spend less time dozing off in the middle of movies with the cool night breeze reaching through Kara's open window, and they almost never just sprawl across Alex's bed anymore, basking in the weekly Top 40.

She's worried. Things are better, but she's worried that won't last.

Some days, when Alex has nowhere else to be, they bike or walk down to the beach. Alex in cutoffs and one of Jeremiah's old button fronts, and Kara in a simple wrap. Downhill on bikes, Alex's shirt billows like wings, and Kara is content to lose a race now and then just to see Alex fly.

Alex doesn't call her on it. The end result is the same: they spread their towels on the sand and shed their coverings to soak in the salt and spray. By July, Alex is managing to get enough of a base tan to match Kara's from weeks ago. Freckles cluster on her arms and shoulders, but her tan lines blur with variety and inconsistency. Some days, she stays sheltered under the drape of her shirt; others, she spends hours in the water with just the scant protection of her bikini. And regardless of how they spend their shore time, they are sun drunk and sleepy when they head home.

Kara knows these are the best times to talk Alex into old habits. It takes hardly any effort from her to convince Alex to make some popcorn while she sets up the DVD player, although she does have to wheedle a little to get Alex to stop complaining about watching _Happy Feet_ for the umpteenth time.

"If we hung out more, maybe we could watch more of your movies," Kara pouts.

The look Alex gives her is hard to read. "I literally spend all of my free time with you, Karebear. There's not much more you can get."

"Yeah, but you're always going off at night." Kara feels her cheeks heat and blames it on embarrassment over her own petulance. "That's, like, prime movie time. I wind up watching documentaries with your dad, and don't get me wrong, I love a good documentary, but he's really into tearing apart the sensationalism on the History Channel lately."

"Okay," Alex acquiesces. "I see your point. Singing penguins are much less controversial than aliens building pyramids."

"Singing _and_ dancing," Kara says cheekily.

They fall asleep before her favorite part.

Kara wakes up as the final scene is starting. Her room is dim and golden with the afternoon sunlight caught in the curtains. The TV isn't loud, but she hears no other sounds in the house. The stillness is surreal. She can feel Alex's even breathing light along the back of her neck and the residual warmth trapped between the quotation marks of their bodies. Kara doesn't move except a shifting of her weight off her shoulder, trapped too long in one position. Alex's body unconsciously adjusts in answer, loosing her arm from across Kara's midriff, resettling with her hand on Kara's hip.

It takes a moment for Kara to remember how to breathe.

In that same moment, Alex stirs - and her knuckles come to rest awkwardly against Kara's side instead. When Kara exhales, she is straining to catch any sign that Alex has woken up now, too. Any indication that she caught Kara's reaction, the charge sparked by her touch.

Well, Kara caught it. Kara felt it. Kara isn't experienced, but she _does_ know what just happened. She bites her lips to keep the _oh no oh no oh no_ from coming out.


	2. Heartbeats

"Hey," Alex says when the credits finish rolling and the menu appears. She unfurls, stretching her legs and pulling her arm away to extend over her head. "You awake?"

Kara makes a noncommittal noise in her throat, not trusting herself to speak. Oblivious, Alex finishes her stretch and winds more tightly around Kara than before. "You're warm," she states, matter-of-factly. 

Kara can't help squirming, twisting around when Alex gives her room to maneuver. She really, really can't help the way she looks at Alex.

And she really can't care that all of her wanting must be written clear across her face because she knows - she can _see_ the way Alex sucks in a breath and wets her lips with the tip of her tongue. 

It's Kara that closes what remains of the space between them. There is no resistance from Alex, only soft acceptance of Kara's still-tentative kiss and the tips of her fingers on Kara's jaw, steadying her. She lets Kara lead, and she lets Kara decide when the kiss ends. And when they do part, she wets her lips again and draws an even breath.

"If you need to freak out, go ahead," the older girl says, a barely perceptible tremor in her voice, "but please don't apologize. Please."

"Okay," Kara manages. She's processing. She's processing, and Alex is watching her, gently tucking strands of hair behind her ear. And Alex expects her to freak out.

"I'm not going to freak out," she decides. Even though Alex's small, amused - but unconvinced - smile makes her racing heart skip a beat. She closes her eyes and feels an answering smile growing on her own face. She probably _is_ going to freak out, but it's okay. It's more than okay.

Eyes open, she watches Alex's face and body language. Carefully. Pushes up on her elbow and leans in, bumping Alex's nose with her own before pressing their lips together again. She's hyper-aware - not of the touch, but of the sound of their breathing and her own racing pulse. She doesn't realize she's been clutching at Alex's hip until the older girl is on her back and Kara is half on top of her, a knee between Alex's and a noise stuck in the back of her throat.

Even through all of this, she can see something - something a little bit wary, a little bit wild creeping behind Alex's dilated pupils. Kara is pretty sure that her own response to that is fear, and instead of pulling away, she stays put until she knows for certain. "Are you freaking out?" she asks quietly, no judgment and hopefully no hope. No pressure. 

Alex's jaw clenches minutely and her eyes dart away from Kara's. "Yes," she forces out. Her voice is so small, so clipped by the tension Kara can feel building in her muscles.

"Okay," Kara hears herself say. Alex is starting to shake. "That was too much."

"Stop," Alex mumbles.

"Okay," Kara repeats gently, easing back so that Alex has some space to herself. 

"I didn't mean for that to happen."

Kara blinks at the admission.

"It's okay," Alex says, her tone becoming detached. "It doesn't mean anything. You're my best friend, and I know you're not... I didn't mean to mislead you."

Under the rising confusion, Kara realizes that she had never anticipated rejection. Whatever instinct took over, whatever subconscious understanding she might have had, this had never truly been part of it. It doesn't make any sense; Kara has no context. She knows she has to speak, and at a loss for explanation, her response is automatic and meek: "I'm sorry."

Alex flinches and sits up. It takes some maneuvering for her to get off the bed without crawling over Kara, but she does. Kara almost misses what she mutters under her breath. "That's all we can be."

"Why?" Kara blurts out. Because now she's on her feet, too, and Alex pauses in the middle of the room to face her, and Kara--

They both freeze. There is a familiar mechanical rumbling through the floorboards, a metallic whine of warning. The garage. Jeremiah, probably.

There is a flash of fear across Alex's face as she looks from Kara to the door and the clock and back again. Her hands make quick gestures that don't translate into any message Kara can understand.

The anxiety drives Alex's voice up in pitch. "We can't do this." She backs toward the exit with her hands raised, as if she expects Kara to follow.

Because Kara _would_. It takes every ounce of control she has to stay put, stay silent, shifting foot to foot and wringing her hands just to keep herself from following. _Don't go,_ she wants to say.

It's what she wants to say every time Alex leaves, and every time that she's present but shuttered, shielding herself from the abrasion of her parents' coarse attention.

It's what she's wanted to say every day since Alex got kicked out of chemistry. 

It's something she hasn't said since she moved in with the Danvers.

It seems like too much to ask.

* * *

Jeremiah suspects nothing when Alex emerges from her room almost an hour later, claiming to have an evening session as she flees the house. Kara is almost positive that she doesn't have anything scheduled - but only almost. The world hasn't stopped reeling.

The scene replays hundreds of times in Kara's head. Every angle, every detail she can gather. It's underscored by memory, everything she's ever known or thought she knew about Alex. It keeps Kara distracted through dinner, and afterwards, completely zoned out through three hours of Pearl Harbor and Jeremiah's sardonic muttering. Eliza comes to lean against the back of the couch during a commercial break.

"You okay, sweetie?"

Kara blinks owlishly in surprise. "Um. I guess?"

"You seem... distracted tonight. Did something happen today?"

"No," Kara says. Not too quickly, fortunately. But she still feels the need to follow up with, "I don't think so. Not really. Just tired, I guess." Then she laughs weakly. "Must have been all that sun."

She doesn't look to see if Eliza bought it. Kara has never been a very good liar. But Eliza is good about backing off, squeezing Kara's shoulder gently before she goes. "You don't have to wait up for your sister, you know. Call it an early night if you want."

The reeling stops. _Everything_ stops. 

Kara has to lick her lips twice before any words come out, and by that time, Eliza is already gone. "Good idea," she mumbles to herself. 

Going through the motions of getting ready for bed is one thing. Needing to remind herself of each new step is another. The process is slowed considerably by Kara's inability to focus on anything more than _But she's not my sister._

Alex, for all that she is one of the few living people Kara considers family, is not her sister. Eliza and Jeremiah, for all that they welcomed her into their home, are not her parents. And Kara, for all that she wishes she had even just one person that shared her Zorel traditions and memories, knows that that's not how she sees any of the Danvers. Especially not Alex.

Alex, who she _kissed_ this afternoon. Her best friend since grade school. The girl who would never hesitate to stand up for her. Who would protect Kara at all costs, even from herself. Which doesn't mean - which doesn't mean Alex is right in doing that. If that _is_ what she was doing by running away.

It takes three tries for Kara to finish brushing her teeth as she debates with herself - did she read Alex's initial acceptance wrong? _Could_ she have read that wrong? Was that what Alex meant about misleading her? Or did Alex misunderstand somehow, and if she did, why didn't she stop Kara sooner? Why did she _leave_ instead of explaining to Kara where she went wrong?

When she finally does make it to bed, the unanswerable questions keep her awake. She's missing something; she must be. She's missing Alex, most immediately, but that's beside the point. Or alongside the point. Adjacent to the point.

And trying to sleep is pointless.

Kara finds herself with bare feet on the floor, padding across the hall to Alex's room. It's dark and empty, which she knew it would be, but when it sinks in as real, it still makes her hesitate. She feels desperate and silly, creeping into Alex's space for the first time ever. She's nervous that Alex will misread her intentions, worried that Eliza and Jeremiah will notice and question why she's here, but more than that she's afraid of letting Alex off the hook for her avoidance and all of this confusion clamoring in Kara's head.

"I just want answers," she whispers at the moonlight catching in the window. 

That much, she finds, she can focus on. She sits on the edge of Alex's bed, barely feeling the thin blanket beneath her palms and the back of her legs, and waits. Alex will come home. Alex will have to hear her out. Alex will have to help her understand. What happened was too important for Kara to just let it go.

Moonlight is a funny thing. It creates layers of darkness on darkness in the landscape. It illuminates some of the sky, but the only color it offers is in the refraction of its reflected light. Maybe it does soothe Kara some; the quiet of Alex's room, the familiar give of her mattress, and the bareness of the night sky let Kara breathe. Her eyes sting with tears, but the tightness gathered in her chest finally starts to ease.

Maybe that's why she goes from listening for the sound of Alex's car in the driveway to gasping and startling awake when the bedroom door closes and the desk lamp comes on.

"Shit, you okay?" Alex asks quietly, and Kara can hear her keys drop. She blinks groggily, her body trying to catch up with the unexpected awakening.

She's been curled diagonal across the bed, not using a pillow, not wanting to get too comfortable. The blanket is still damp where her head had been. She couldn't have been asleep for long. But Alex still looks worried.

"Yeah," Kara croaks, her voice not quite there. "Sorry, I was waiting... didn't mean to fall asleep. I just wanted to... to talk... see if you were okay?"

Alex crosses the room to see for herself that Kara is alright, but there must be matching shadows under their eyes and furrows in their brows, because she settles gingerly on the bed and rests her hand next to Kara's. Kara _wants_ to take it, to ground herself in that connection and strength, but she's so afraid that feeling won't be there anymore. 

"I'm sorry," Alex says, quiet and sincere. She doesn't move to take Kara's hand, either. 

"Why did you leave?" Kara makes herself ask. The question is just as terrifying as the simple act of touching Alex. And it comes out sounding more broken than Kara is ready to feel.

"I shouldn't have." Alex's response isn't an answer, but she sounds ashamed, and Kara can't bring herself to push for more. "Why did you kiss me?"

"I wanted to?" Kara shakes her head; she doesn't mean for it to be a question. "I thought... I thought that's what you wanted, too. That's why. I did."

Alex's pinky twitches toward Kara's.

"I can't lose you," Alex says. There is a sigh behind her voice, resignation and admission. "I don't want you to do something you'll regret. I don't want to lose my best friend."

This is the part where the whole world tilts again. Kara feels the pressure building in her chest - from within, this time, not from without. It's not like her to reign it in, but she _tries_. She can't jump to conclusions. So she asks: "But you do want to kiss me?"

Alex, who rarely blushes, starts to redden. Kara can see the tightening of her jaw, the pull at the corner of her mouth, the way she swallows. The silence stretches out, even after Alex clutches Kara's hand in her own.

Kara knows now. She _knows_ , but she needs Alex to say it, so she waits. She holds Alex's hand with both of hers and waits for Alex to speak or pull away.

"Yeah," Alex says. There's a tremor in her exhale. 

It dawns on Kara that she's never seen Alex so scared before. _Terrified_. The realization makes her heart ache and her grip tighten, and all she wants is to wrap the other girl up in a hug and convince her that it's okay - but she can't, not unless Alex crosses the distance first. "I'm not going anywhere," she offers instead. "You didn't lose me."

Alex's breathing hiccups in a weak laugh. "How do you make everything sound so easy, so simple? I'm just... I'm exhausted."

"You worry enough for both of us."

And Kara realizes - Alex has probably been worrying for a while. Much longer than the few hours between afternoon and night. Probably. That would be so typical of Alex, to carry that burden for both of them.

She's so caught up in the thought that she doesn't notice Alex twisting her hand free. It doesn't register that Alex kicks her shoes into a corner as she pads across the room, or that she presses her hand flat against the meeting of the door and its frame as she turns off the light. But it does sink in when, even in the dark, Alex turns away to change shirts and take off her bra.

"You're going to bed?" Kara asks. She isn't sure what she wants the answer to be, only that Alex looks impossibly... raw, her bared shoulders and arms lined in silvery light as she turns down the cover. 

"Yeah." Alex sighs quietly. Then adds, "You can stay. If you want."

"Yeah," Kara echoes, surprised at the offer. "That's okay?"

Alex glances up at her, but Kara can't quite make out her expression. Either way, she crawls into the open side of the bed and pulls the sheet up over her legs. Kara scoots into the space left to her, careful to keep a few inches between them. It's strange, being in bed like this but not being able to touch. But that's the crux of their situation, isn't it? How _hadn't_ she figured it out before now?

"I'm sorry you've been going through this alone," Kara murmurs. "We're in this together, okay?"

"Yeah," Alex agrees mutedly without turning to face her. 

If the afternoon hadn't happened, Kara would be tucked against Alex's back, an arm around her waist, humming until the other girl fell asleep. Which she now realizes wouldn't be fair to Alex - but the impulse to offer the comfort of connection is still there. And before today, Alex hasn't particularly shied away. So if Kara isn't looking for anything... if Kara doesn't mean for it to be sexual, then...

It's just the tips of her fingers, lightly brushing over the fabric of Alex's tank top, following the path of her spine. She wants to chase the tension out, to remind them both with this simple repetitive motion that nothing has to change, that the _important_ things don't have to change.

* * *

Kara wakes as Alex is slipping back under the sheet, her skin cool from bare minutes in the house air conditioning. Neither one pulls away when their legs touch, and Kara doesn't stop herself when she finds her body instinctively curling toward Alex's. She does keep her hands tucked against her own sides, but sleepily lets her forehead rest against Alex's shoulder. They can readily excuse it if Alex decides that's too much, but she doesn't seem to mind - and Kara's heart stutters over a beat when Alex shifts closer and and pries loose one of her hands. 

"Can I tell you something?" 

Alex's breath is minty and her skin is scrubbed; she is wearing a thin short-sleeve now, and Kara realizes she must have been up long enough to shower. Alex has had time to think, and somewhere in all that thinking, Alex must have made the choice not to leave. 

"Don't laugh," Alex adds. "It doesn't matter if you already know. I need to say it."

"Okay," Kara reiterates, nodding in case Alex needs the encouragement.

"I like girls. I'm pretty sure I only like girls." 

Kara bites her lip and watches Alex's face. She isn't going to laugh, but she has to fight to keep her smile from growing too big.

"I've just... been working through that. For a while. I wanted to tell you." Alex takes a deep breath and lets it out. She pauses, then thinks better of it. "I know you're not... I didn't want anything to change. I don't want anything to change. I don't want to take advantage or pressure--" 

"You're not," Kara finally interrupts. Alex compresses her lips into a thin line. Kara can practically feel the effort it takes for her to tamp down a protest, and again she squeezes the hand that captured hers. "I kissed you, remember?"

"Yeah, but--"

"I think I kissed you _twice_."

Kara giggles a little too loudly as that sinks in for both of them. She tries to shush herself, whispering, "I think we both liked it." But the giggles keep coming and then she's laughing, tangling her legs with Alex's so she's half on top of the other girl. "You could never take advantage of me."

Alex rolls her eyes, partly at the assertion and partly to avoid looking at Kara this close. She clears her throat when Kara settles there, content and boneless. "People think I do, you know. Take advantage. Influence... your decisions."

"Nobody thinks that," Kara dismisses the worry. She noses against Alex's neck to distract her. Then to smell her skin, the faint scent of her shampoo. To feel her heart skip a beat. Kara hasn't even gotten out of bed yet, but the day already feels perfect. "Alex?" she hums, and she can feel Alex's ribcage jump underneath her.

"Ye-ah?"

Kara hides her grin where Alex can't see it and smothers the rising giggles again. "Can you just... take a break today? And not worry so much? Just one day of you and me."

Kara pauses, struck by the new, unfamiliar weight of it. Feeling it out, _you and me_ on her tongue. 

"It doesn't really... work like that?" Alex tries.

"Yesterday hurt," Kara says quietly. She can feel Alex's throat move as she swallows. "So maybe, today, you could just be here, and not overthink it."

Alex shifts but makes a point of not letting go. "I have a make-up session this evening. I can't reschedule it, but... you could come along?"

Kara jolts up at the offer. "Really?"

Alex has _never_ indicated that Kara could be part of her tutoring sessions. Kara never _asked_. And now Alex is smiling tentatively and pushing up on her elbows, shrugging it off like why not? "I'm not going to split the payment with you, but I'll buy you dinner."

It almost sounds like a date. Even Alex knows that, raising her eyebrows and shrugging again, more sheepishly this time. Like Kara could say no if Alex was bold enough to properly ask.

Instead Kara pins her back down on the pillows, kissing her soundly then bouncing out of bed before Alex can comment on morning breath. "You're already way ahead of me, so let's start with breakfast."

* * *

They start with French toast on the patio, the furniture necessitating some distance between them. Kara is okay with that. She gets it. Alex keeps sneaking looks at her, and Kara finally just hooks her heels on the edge of Alex's seat, crosses her ankles, and rests the arches of her feet against the curve of Alex's thigh. Nothing more. Just a simple point of connection. The looks don't stop, but they're less nervous. Everything is still okay.

Alex manages to get as far as cleaning up the dishes before slipping into serious mode. "Can I ask you something?" She's scrubbing well past clean on the griddle. Kara was loading the dishwasher but stops, leaning against the counter so that Alex can't simply dodge around her to the sink. 

"Are you doing that worrying thing you're not supposed to be doing?"

Alex smiles wryly. "No, I mean, this is a fair question. Like, I'm curious. Because I... came out to you this morning. But I had no idea... about you?"

Kara starts to answer automatically, then stops. Alex has been thinking through - struggling with - her identity for months, probably. Kara hasn't. She hasn't been thinking about boys or girls or dating because she's focused on school and Alex and the Danvers. Neither of them has dated before, so she doesn't know how the Danvers household treats that sort of thing. Eliza has asked a few times if there's anything she needs to talk about, anyone she's _interested_ in, but Kara always brushes it off. She doesn't have _time_. And the Danvers, being scientists and academics, seem to understand.

"I guess," she starts, choosing her words with care, "I haven't thought about it because I haven't needed to. Sorry."

"Do you like boys?"

"I guess, yeah. As far as I know, I do, so I guess in theory, I do. But I also like you," Kara adds, starting to get flustered as she tries to talk through this. "I'm not confused about how I feel about you. You're my best friend and the closest I have to family. But not, like, Eliza calls us sisters sometimes, and we _are_ that close, but not - I don't think of you as my sister. I just mean that you're..."

She remembers what preceded the first kiss yesterday. The touch to her hip and rush of excitement, and then the _kisses_. And her face is heating up at her definitely unsisterly thoughts. Kara clears her throat. "I mean you make me feel safe and loved. And some other things."

"Right," Alex says, and Kara can tell she's thinking. Overthinking.

So Kara shifts closer until their elbows touch and her fingers can rest lightly on Alex's forearm. "Can I show you?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew. Thank you, everyone, for your patience. I hate to say it, but some of this chapter was already written when the first one was posted and a lot of this chapter was already written months ago. I've spent all year kind of processing some personal stuff that impacts my writing, and I've been worried about being able to follow through with this fic in particular. The good news is, I'm pretty sure I *can.* It's just going to take more than the three chapters I had planned.


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